Harry Potter and the Olympians: The Lightning Stone
by WordsGalore10
Summary: The Dimley's of number eight, Priket Drive, one day find baby Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, half-brothers, on their doorstep after their parents had been killed by the evil Lord Zoldemort. They go to Hogwarts and discover they must protect the Lightning Stone, a stone with incredible lightning power. But will they have the wits and the brains? Or will there mission fail? AU TPS


**A/N: Hey guys! It's Ten here, and if you haven't heard, my computer stopped working, so I couldn't update any of my stories. But, good news! It's recently been fixed, so to make it up to you guys, I decided to do this Percy Jackson and Harry Potter cross. I hope you like it! **

**Basically, I have changed each chapter to include both Harry Potter and Percy Jackson characters, and I have changed some of the characters too. Although some parts may seem directly from the book, please do not skip them, as they most likely contain important info for the story.**

**Also, each chapter in the book will be split in to two parts in my story.**

**I'm Ten, and this is the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Olympians, 'The Boys Who Lived Part 1'.**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter or Percy Jackson and the Olympians, nor the words I used here that I got from either series.**_

Mr. and Mrs. Dimley of number eight, Priket Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dimley was a highly successful actor. He was a muscular man with bulging biceps, not unlike vines growing along a telephone pole. Mrs. Dimley was pear-shaped and had midnight black hair, all which suited her job as a runway model. The Dimleys had a small son called Charley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dimleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Jackson-Potters, or the JPs, as most people called them. Mr. Potter had married Mrs. Potter, but after her unfortunate death two years after, one year following the birth of their son Harry, Mr. Potter had remarried a woman named Sally Jackson, to bear a son three years following, Percy. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dimley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dimley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDimleyish as it was possible to be. The Dimleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the JPs arrived in the street. The Dimleys knew that the JPs had two small sons too, but they had never even seen them. These children were another good reason for keeping the away; they didn't want Charley mixing with boys like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dimley woke up on the dull, gray Monday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dimley grinned at his reflection in their polished oak framed mirror as he debated which flash of teeth he should display to the cameras and millions of people at the red carpet event that night, and Mrs. Dimley took care not to chip her freshly painted and coated nails as she wrestled a screaming Charley into his bedazzled high chair.

None of them noticed a large barn owl flutter past the window.

At half-past eight, Mr. Dimley sat on his plush director's chair as his personal servant (or 'assistant' as he liked to call him) slipped his newly polished black dress shoes onto his feet, gave his wife a kiss goodbye, and tried to do the same to Charley but missed, because Charley was too busy staring at his reflection in the toaster and laughing approvingly. "Maybe one day he'll be as handsome as me," commented Mr. Dimley as he left the mansion and hopped into his private limousine and his driver Hank backed out of number eight's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar (surprising, considering he barely lifted his head from his phone.) – a rabbit reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dimley didn't realize what he had seen – then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a rabbit standing on the corner of Priket Drive, a fluffy one, the precise colour of the road, just as he had seen moments before, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dimley blinked and stared at the rabbit. It stared back. As the limo bowed around the street corner and up the adjoining road, he watched the small animal in his mirror. It was now reading a sign that said _Priket Drive _– no, _looking _at the sign; rabbits couldn't read maps _or _signs. Mr. Dimley gave himself a little shake and pushed the rabbit out of his mind. As Hank maneuvered the limo towards _Machico Movie Centre_, the place set for the meeting about his next movie, _Behind the Records, _he thought of nothing except the concept he had developed in his head, ensuring him the most lines.

But on the edge of town, the movie concept was driven out of his mind by something else. As he moved through traffic, people recognizing his limo and pulling over to let him pass while pulling out their cell phones to snap a few pictures of the star, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dimley couldn't bear people who dressed in unfashionable clothes – how could a person go out in public without polished shoes? He supposed these people had not been reading his magazine. He commanded his assistant to push the button to make the TV appear so he could take his mind off all this fashion stress, and his eyes fell on a huddle of these social rejects standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dimley was enraged to see that a couple of people had worn scarfs that didn't match their pants. Hello people! _Do not _try to make a purple scarf and orange trousers work. But then it struck him that this was probably for some hopeless movie they were trying to create. Well, they'd never succeed without himself, Mr. Has-It-All.

The traffic moved on and few minutes later, Mr. Dimley arrived at _Machico Movie Centre, _his mind back on his film concept.

Mr. Dimley always sat at the end seat in his conference room, adjacent to his office, during movie meetings. If he didn't, his back would not have been to the window behind him, and he would not have been able to concentrate enough to flash a level eleven smile, probably just a ten. _He _didn't see the parliament of barn owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people listening to his presentation did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr. Dimley, however, had seen hundreds on the set of his movie, _Owl the Only_. He fired five people. He hired someone to tell him how beautiful he was. Up until lunchtime when he took his daily stroll around the building to sign autographs for his delighted fans, he was in a fantastic mood.

He'd forgotten all about the unfashionable people in untrendy blouses until he passed by some loitering on the marble staircase joining the fourth and fifth floor. He eyed them angrily as he passed. Naturally, he was upset at anyone who made eye contact with him but did not ask for a signature. This lot were whispering excitedly too. It was on his way past them that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Jackson-Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-And their two sons, Harry and Percy, half-brothers-"

Mr. Dimley stopped dead in his tracks. Fear flooded him, a feeling he had almost never felt, being, some would say, the best actor to ever live.

He dashed down the staircase and into his limo, where his assistant, Antonio, slipped his shoes and socks off his feet so he could massage them while Hank drove him around the neighbourhood so he could calm down.

After the conference had finished, Hank drove him home to prepare for the red carpet event commencing in a couple of hours. As he walked up to the door, he noticed the black rabbit from earlier was sitting on the steps.

"Move!" Mr. Dimley shouted. It simply glared him in the eye before scuttling off. "Wretched animal…" he muttered, allowing Antonio to open the door for him.

Despite Mr. Dimley's distracting day at _Machico, _Mrs. Dimley's day was quite the opposite. She went shopping at their private mall, a three minute drive from their doorstep, to come home with about three dozen perfectly fitted dresses. After _her _personal assistant, Corinne, had filled Charley's stomach with a good, hardy lunch while she used her automatic nail-painting machine to redo her glossy purple toenails, Charley had spoken a new word; magnanimous.

Mr. Dimley tried his hardest to act like he'd had a great day at the conference. He even told her that a record number of fans had asked for autographs today; it was a small exaggeration, although he was darn close.

It was after dinner when he was working on his self-directed short film near the pool when Antonio delivered the latest stories on the news.

"Marie Donlog on channel nine has told of groups of owls in almost every city behaving strangely today. There have been hundreds of groups seen, despite owls usually being seen at night. Experts have no idea why. And the weather; Lance McMay, channel twelve, promises rain tonight. Viewers have also tweeted him telling of shooting stars that they saw last night."

Mr. Dimley stood frozen, hands on his camera. Shooting stars, plus owls in the daytime, plus people dressed funnily, plus talk of the Jackson-Potters, equals…

Mrs. Dimley entered the room in a bright purple dress embodied with diamonds along the top hem line. He had no choice but to mention the strange happenings to her.

"Um, Petunia dear…when was the last time you heard from your sister?"

Mrs. Dimley looked up and inhaled sharply. "Not recently," she snapped. "Why?"

"Has Corinne told you about the news? Shooting stars, owls, strange people dressed like-"

"Who cares?" she asked, clearly irritated.

"Well…it's a _possibility _that…you know…it could be involved with your sister's…_kind._" He decided if he didn't want to be pushed into the pool, he better not tell her about the strangers whispering about the JPs.

"Rubbish," she mumbled under her minty breath.

"The two sons…what were their names again? Harold and Pablo?"

She scowled. "Harry and Percy." She said the names like it might give her some type of disease. "The worst things to ever touch this earth."

"Oh yes," he agreed. "Nothing more terrible."

The conversation was left at that as they headed out to the red carpet event. Mr. Dimley was both shocked and angered to see the rabbit _still _sitting on their front lawn when they climbed into their limo. _How stubborn was this thing? _

Pushing Harold and Pablo (whoever they were) to the back of his mind, he began practicing his red carpet smile in his mirror.

But he had to confirm that that rabbit was just that – a small animal and nothing more. He swirled around in his seat, and sure enough, the black ball of fur was still lounging under the shade of their Mjozi tree, watching the limo ride away into the distance.

"What's wrong dear?" Mrs. Dimley asked, noticing him staring intently out the back window.

"Oh!" he said quickly, anxious to cover up what he was looking at. "Nothing. Everything is right as…right as…what was that saying again Antonio?"

"Right as rain sir."

"Oh yes. Everything is right as rain," he repeated.

But his 'right as rain' day was about to be turned around, because if he would have chanced one last glance at the rabbit before there mansion melted out of view, he would have seen it transform into a tall, severe-looking woman.

**A/N: There you have it! Hope you liked it! Please leave a review, it would really help. Thanks! **

**I will be updating my other stories ASAP.**

**See ya!**

**-Ten**


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